After a long night of traveling back and fro across the city, I decided to call it in and head home, ignoring the fact that it was past midnight and the trains would be flooded in scum, the homeless, nocturnal travelers en route to the airport, and slackers of the youth on their way to cause trouble to their fragile bodies. It was a day where I didn't have my headphones for music and a book to peruse, so all I had were my powers of observation and cognizance, although I was already sickened by the sight of these fiends. Yet one caught my attention, usually due to her dirty knees and loose mouth. While aimlessly reading the advertisements held up high on the train, my eyes caught her, mostly locked onto her knees: slightly red but mostly coated in dirt, in which a filthy assumption was conceived, even after glancing at her lips, soft and loose in structure. Above all else, she seemed completely out of it, mayhap under the influence of something, or weary from the long day she endeavored and endured. Since I was on the Red line portion of the public transportation system, I had to conduct a transfer to another line, meaning that my encounter with this Dirt Wanderer was cut short. As I got myself prepared to depart and transfer on over, I looked at her one more time and left.
I named her The Dirt Wanderer, because she reminds me of someone from my mind.
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